


The One That I've Kept Closest, BBC The Hour

by GingerLyoness



Category: The Hour
Genre: 30 Days OTP Challenge, Angst, Emotions, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2017-11-25 15:52:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/640513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerLyoness/pseuds/GingerLyoness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>30 one-shots ranging from before Series 1 began and after Season 2 ended, so some spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Holding Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [diaghileafs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diaghileafs/gifts).



> First submission here, hope you enjoy!

Freddie had always thought his hands had been strange things. Long, thin, delicate fingers. He sometimes thought they looked quite girlish. Then again, he had inherited them from his mother. But then, having slender hands wasn’t such a bad thing. It was better than having hands to large, hands that would be out of proportion with the rest of him.

His forefinger tapped gently at the papers on his desk in front of him, his cheek resting in his palm as he pored over the notes. This story was going to be a tough one, he could tell and he’d only just started. He’d been on the go since six that morning, and had only stopped for lunch at midday. Now it was nearing seven in the evening, and he could feel the strain on his brain getting worse.

Just as his head was threatening to hit the desk, a hand rested on his shoulder, before fingers ran through the short hair at the nape of his neck. He leaned into the touch, closing his eyes with a sigh.

“You should stop now, Freddie, it’s getting late.” Bel told him, still stroking his hair gently. The midsummer sun shone through the window behind them, making her golden brown hair seem to glow slightly. They remained like that for some time, before Freddie turned to look at her.

“This won’t take too much longer, Bel. It needs to be done.” He protested, but as soon as he took in the steely look in the producer’s eyes, he knew he couldn’t win this time. With a sigh, he shuffled his papers into a neat pile, before standing.

Before he had a chance to rearrange things anymore, Bel’s hand slipped into his, pulling him away from his desk. He smiled, interlocking their fingers as they walked alongside each other, the sun orange and bright on their faces as they walked out of the building.

“It’s too nice an evening to be working, Freddie.” Bel told him with a smile, not pulling her hand away, keeping them locked in a sort of chain. He swung his other arm absentmindedly, his jacket clasped gently in his hand. Looping it through his arm, he brought his arm up to check the time, his hand outstretched.

“Hands are odd, aren’t they?” Freddie said suddenly, still holding his out in front of him. Bel chuckled from beside him, unlinking her hand from his to hold her hand up alongside. 

“Well, I’ve never really thought they were odd.” She placed her hand against his, palm to palm. “Only how much bigger men’s hands are.”  
Freddie smiled, before continuing to walk. Their hands occasionally brushed, but both resisted the urge to reach out and grab the other. It was like an unspoken rule, one of them had to make the move first.

Freddie, in a moment of bravery, moved his arm just far enough to be able to touch her hand, taking it in his, unlike before where his hand had been in hers. He noticed how much smaller Bel’s hands were than his, fitting into his.

That was another thing he found strange about hands, they always seemed to fit so well together, no matter who the people were. He thought Bel’s and his fit together better than anyone else he knew. He was bound to, he – no, he couldn’t admit that to himself. Not just yet.

They carried on like that, in comfortable silence until they reached her flat, their fingers still entangled. Letting go was the worst part. It always was, especially with Bel. It was all worth it for a few moments with her, like that. Letting himself believe that things could be like that one day.


	2. Cuddling Somewhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie turns to Bel in a time of need.

It was a grey afternoon in February when Bel’s doorbell rang. With a sigh, she stood from the sofa, walking slowly towards the door, the bell buzzing again.  
“Alright, give it a rest!” She called, struggling with the faulty lock.

Eventually she managed to open the door to reveal Freddie. His eyes were rimmed red, his hands shaky.

“Can I come in?” He asked quietly, lifting his head to look at her.

“Of course,” She pulled the door open to let him in, “Freddie, are you alright?”

It was obvious he wasn’t as he sank into the sofa, leaning back and staring at the ceiling . 

Bel sat next to him, taking his hand in hers. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” She asked gently, stroking the gap between his thumb and forefinger gently, waiting patiently for him to answer. Freddie was one of those people who tended to clam up if you weren’t careful about how you broached a topic.

“It’s-” He sighed, “It’s just-” This cycle was commonplace with Freddie, you just had to wait until he had his words properly formed before he could put them into a coherent sentence. 

“Would some whiskey help?” Bel asked, getting a nod in response. She watched him as she poured the whiskey into two glasses, his expression glazed as his slender fingers picked at the sofa. He seemed to be in a world of his own, consumed in his thoughts.

Taking her place next to him, she pressed the small glass into his hand. They stayed like that for a while longer, drinking the golden brown liquid, Freddie in a hope that it would numb the pain, Bel because it was there and she had an excuse.

“You know, you don’t-”

“Have to tell you?” Freddie interrupted, turning to her with a smile that contained no humour. His eyes were empty, deep voids of nothingness, none of the usual emotion and passion that could be detected there with a mere glance.

“Mum died.” He said simply, before downing the last of his drink. His hand shook as he placed the glass on the table in front of him, his fingers scratching gently at the hairs on the back of his neck.

Bel was stunned, opening her mouth to say something, but thinking better of it as she saw Freddie’s eyes begin to brim with tears. His voice sounded thick and wobbled as he said, “I couldn’t – stay there. I needed to give Dad some-” He broke off, the first tear cascading down his face.

The next action didn’t take any thought. Reaching out, she pulled him close, letting him rest his head against her shoulder. His tears soaked into her blouse, his previous silence turning into painful sounding sobs, his body moving with the sound. 

After a while, he stood up, pacing up and back once before saying, “You’ll stay with me?” Those four simple words hit a nerve in Bel. It had been enough with her best friend who usually covered his emotions easily sobbing into her shoulder.

“Of course.” She replied, not bothering to say anymore as she stood, taking him into her arms. She could tell from the shaky breaths that he was still crying, his frail figure holding her close to him. This is what he needed in those situations: someone to hold, someone to reassure him. 

“She’s never coming back.” He murmured quietly, finally acknowledging the obvious that had only just crossed his mind. 

Bel said nothing, only held him closer. Her beautiful boy, her poor, broken boy. They remained that way for what seemed an age, swaying gently until the tears subsided.  
This is what he needed. This was all he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope it wasn't /too/ sad, I seem to have a soft spot for Hurt/Comfort.


	3. Gaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie and Bel playing what starts as a mere game.

The room was in darkness, save for one corner bathed in orange light. A sound of triumph broke the silence, a groan of defeat accompanying it.

“Why do you always win?” Freddie grumbled, pushing his chess piece over dejectedly.

“Because I’m better at it than you,” Bel said simply, a smirk on her face.

The pair were laid on their fronts in Bel’s living room, a candle the only source of light. When the electricity had gone off, they had had to find a different way to occupy themselves.

“Well, I don’t want to be humiliated again,” Freddie sighed, shifting his weight onto his elbows as he looked at her, “why can’t we play something I actually have a chance of winning?”

Bel smiled, “alright, I have an idea,” the smile slowly turned into a grin, “wait a minute,” she told him, standing up and walking to the coffee table.

Freddie sighed, resting his head on his arms as he waited for her return, poking at the chess pieces idly.

“Whiskey? Makes it a little more ‘adult’ as it were,” Bel held a glass of whiskey out to him, taking a sip out of another.

“This sounds like a game I could enjoy,” Freddie smirked, sitting up and taking the glass eagerly, “yet, I don’t know what this game is,” he looked up, gaze questioning.

“Ever played Blind Man’s Buff?” Bel asked, taking a mouthful of her drink.

“Well, that’s a silly question; I was a child once,” Freddie joked, only getting an eye roll in response, “yes, I have played it.”

“Well, I have a twist on it.”

“Oh, really?”

She raised an eyebrow, “violent.”

Freddie snorted, “how violent?”

“Rolled up newspaper violent.”

“Ah, nothing potentially life threatening, then.”

After several pieces of furniture had been moved, Freddie stood with his eyes closed in the centre of the room.

“You know, I really don’t trust you.” Bel told him, “you’ll cheat.”

“Me? Cheat? Never!” he defended, crossing his arms.

Bel snorted, walking towards him and beginning to tug his tie off.

“What are you doing?” he asked, brow furrowed as the material was placed over his eyes.

“Not taking chances,” she said lowly, her breath on the back of his neck as she tied a knot.

Freddie felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, but didn’t acknowledge it as he made his first attack. He had been the best at ‘sword fighting’ at school, a skill his eight-year-old self had prided himself on. Blindfolded sword fighting couldn’t be that hard.

He swung out, the newspaper slicing through air. He frowned, he was sure he had heard Bel there. After a few more attempts with the same result, he heard a chuckle from behind him. Turning rapidly, he swung the stick out, catching what could have been an arm. He swung again, a muffled ‘ow’ coming in place of a chuckle.

“Do I win?” he asked, grinning as he removed the blindfold.

The grin faded as he saw Bel’s eye was red and bloodshot.

“Are you alright?” he asked, newspaper forgotten on the floor as he stepped towards her, his hand on the side of her face as he looked at her. 

“Yes,” she blinked a few times, shaking her head, “I’m fine.”

“Let’s forget the violent version,” he told her, turning to shift the newspaper with his foot.

Undoing the knot in his tie, he placed it gently over her eyes, his fingers grazing her cheekbones. He held her gently by her shoulders, turning her around three times before stepping backwards, watching as Bel remained still in the centre of the room. As he shifted his weight, a floorboard squeaked loudly, alerting Bel to his location.  
She turned quickly towards the sound, walking forwards quickly on instinct. The steady movement in his direction continued, Freddie backing away, a loud laugh escaping his throat despite his knowing it would give away his location entirely.

And before he knew it, she was falling, flying towards him, making impact. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her up as she regained her balance, her hands pressed gently to his chest. He felt the hairs rise again, pulse increase, his bodies normal reaction to Bel being in close proximity.

His hands moved gently from her back to her waist, their faces inches away from the other. He felt her hand move slowly from his chest to his neck, fingers brushing gently along his skin, goosebumps appearing where her fingers had been. He wondered for a moment if she knew the effect she had on him.

He felt in an almost dreamlike state, seemingly being pulled closer to Bel by some exterior force he couldn’t do anything about. He closed his eyes, breathing in as their lips touched.

It was only gentle at first, as if asking permission, not quite sure of themselves or their situation. They had been dancing around the edge of this for as long as they had known each other, neither working up the courage to say or do anything to change it.

Soon their grip was tighter, unyielding as they kissed. His hands pulled her closer, pressed flush against each other, her fingers in the short hair at the back of his neck. 

By the time they managed to detach themselves from each other, their breath came in gasps, the floor becoming interesting for both parties.

Freddie turned, drinking the last of the whiskey before grabbing his coat, “I should go, it’s getting late, and Dad’s probably wondering where I am…”

The awkward silence came back with a vengeance, neither quite sure what to say to the other, both in disbelief at what had just happened.

“Yes, I- I suppose you should. I’ll-”

He cut her off, pressing his lips to hers briefly, a grin on his face as he pulled back, “until tomorrow, Moneypenny.”

“Stop calling me that!” she called after him, hearing laughter as the door shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not as proud of this one, it seemed there was too much pre-amble, most likely due to a lack of ideas. I hope they didn't end up seeming out of character or unrealistic.  
> My dear friend Polly (en_dejlig_rosa) beta’d this, much to my disdain. As a capital lover, it caused me much pain and discomfort.


	4. On a Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When snow hits London, Bel spends her day differently to what she was expecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long, a plot line for this prompt has proved very elusive. But since snow has arrived here in Britain, it gave me an idea. Hope you like it!

“Of all the days for your heating to break, Moneypenny,” Freddie sighed as he wandered into Bel’s flat aimlessly, snow still in his hair from where he had been outside in the near blizzard.

“Hmm... Bloody typical, I've been telling the landlord for weeks, bloody hopeless man,” Bel replied, rolling her eyes as Freddie dumped his coat without a thought of  
hanging it up neatly.

“Maybe it's because he's an arse as well as hopeless,” Freddie wondered aloud, walking over to the window as he spoke, pulling his jumper down where it had ridden up. 

“Like you, you mean?” she walked over to where he stood, “whiskey?” she offered him a tumbler, a smirk coming over her features. 

“You're too kind,” Freddie said sarcastically, turning to look at her, “yes, please,”

As she leant on the windowsill next to him, she raised her glass in a toast, “to staying in, when everyone else is outside making prats of themselves,”

Freddie clinked his against hers, eyes flicking to the window as he said, "speaking of other people outside...” he pointed out of the window to a couple walking down the   
road arm in arm. They were laughing with grins on their faces despite the cold, obviously having arrived home after a date.

Bel followed the direction his finger, rolling her eyes again, “oh, how very sickening. We'll never be like that, will we?”

He snorted, “us? Of course not,” he began to push the window open; a plan already formulating in his head. 

“What the hell are you doing? It's freezing!” she protested, watching as the window was pushed open further. 

“Just wait,” he picked up the snow that had settled on the windowsill, making it into a ball, “I'm showing you how we'll never be like that.”

“Freddie, what-“ she leaned over to get a better view out of the window, just in time to see the snowball hit the female part of the couple in the back of the neck, “you bastard!” she cried, shocked at his actions.

Freddie shrugged, before noticing them looking around for the seemingly invisible attacker, “duck down a bit or they'll see us,” he told her, crouching so that they could just see over the bottom of the window.

“Playing the secret agent, are you, James?” she teased, complying none the less.

“Ha-ha," he scoffed, the words dripping with sarcasm before turning back to the window, “look, they still can’t figure it out,” he chuckled with glee at his success.

“Oh, wait, no,” Bel pulled him back down to a crouch as the couples gaze landed on the window, Freddie almost losing his balance as they dissolved into laughter.

“Come on, let's throw another one,” he stood up eagerly, going towards the window with that precise intention.

She placed a gentle hand on his arm to stop him, “better not, don't want eggs thrown at my door, on top of everything.”

“Fine, spoil sport,” he sighed as he twisted around, “why don't we build a snowman? Then we can accidentally hit people,” his smile changed to a grin at the mere thought.

She raised an eyebrow at his childlike wishes, “how old are you? Five?”

“You're twenty years out, but no matter,” Freddie replied, moving towards where he had left his coat.

Bel waved a hand dismissively, turning towards the kitchen, “go if you want, I'll stay here and see if I can get the stove to work.”

He rolled his eyes,“oh no, don't try and play that card- you're coming with me.”

“I'm not!” she insisted as he walked to the other side of the room to get her coat, “Freddie, no,” despite her protest, he started to put her coat on, being a gentlemen despite what others may think, “you're incorrigible,” she exclaimed.

“No, I'm not. I'm unconventional and fun, and you love it- admit it,” Freddie pressed her, a statement many would identify as arrogance.

“You forget pathetic, and I wouldn't go as far as to say I love you,” she retorted, pulling her coat on properly, a smile twitching at the corner of her mouth.

“I didn't say you love me, I said you love my characteristics," he corrected her, ever pedantic.

She rolled her eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time before saying, “shall we go, Lyon?”

Freddie grinned as he opened the door, revelling in the fact that he’d won her over. As the pair built their snowman, Bel realised it was good to be unconventional once in a while.


	5. Kissing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine's Day 1955 - Freddie decides to go against his usual indifferent attitude and send a Valentine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a very long time.... My very own Moneypenny, en-dejlig-rosa, beta'd it for me, so THANK YOU!

_Valentine’s Day, 1955_

Valentine’s Day had never been that appealing to Freddie. He thought it was a load of nonsense to indoctrinate people to get chocolates or flowers for loved ones, just as a way of encouraging people to spend more money on things they didn’t need.

Valentine’s Day of 1955 fell on a Monday, a fact Freddie disputed. He had had a nice weekend off from having to deal with people being bothersome (namely George, his producer) and now he would have to go back to women receiving Valentines and tittering at their desks.

Eventually succeeding in dragging himself away from his bed- later than he should have done- he snatched a piece of toast, kissed his mother on the cheek and departed the house. He knew George would be irritated by his tardiness but _that_ was part of the fun.

As he ambled nonchalantly into the office, he chuckled upon spotting George’s ‘pickle-up-his-backside’ expression from across the room. Struggling to keep his composure, Freddie settled at his desk, noticing the one woman he was looking forward to seeing after the weekend was absent.

After he had scoured the rest of the office, he wondered where she could possibly be. She was never normally one to be late, mostly to avoid George’s wrath; she had enough on her shoulders from the old-fashioned misogynist as it was, without him berating her for being late.

Just as he was starting to get on edge, the lady herself rushed in- her cheeks flushed from the cold air outside. She hurriedly removed her coat before plopping down into her chair, idly toying with a single red rose. Freddie rolled his eyes, so it had been one of her bankers keeping her then; obviously a sentimental one, judging from the flower.

Resolving to leave her alone for a while to get into the swing of things, Freddie returned to his work. His silent musings drifted with his lack of concentration, back to a poem he had read some months ago. He thought a certain Miss. Rowley would appreciate it, since a single rose was a little bit of a disappointment- even by _his_ standards.

Sliding a piece of paper towards himself, he began to inscribe the words of the poem:

_(I do not know what it is about you that closes_

_and opens; only something in me understands_

_the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)_

_nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands._

_xx F._

 

He knew the way he had signed the poem off would be obvious. She would most likely realise that he hadn’t written it, but it was the thought that counted. He smiled to himself as he folded it into four, placing it in his breast pocket until later on.

 

                                               

The day wore on, and soon the end of working hours drew closer; people leaving in an unsteady stream. Seeing his chance, Freddie slowly rose from his seat, approaching the object of his affections hesitantly.

 

Letting the note flutter onto her desk with a casual air, he walked back to his own, turning in time to see her look up to where the paper came from.

 

He watched as she picked it up gently, her eyes scanning the words with a slight squint, _‘she needs to get glasses’_ he thought to himself. He noticed her read it a second time through, her eyes flicking towards him briefly. Realising he had been caught in the act, Freddie twisted in his seat towards his typewriter, fingers tapping slowly at the keys.

 

 

The minimal light had all but disappeared by the time Freddie had finished his article. It needed ‘a little tweaking’ according to Lix, but it ‘wasn’t bad’. Pulling the paper from the typewriter, he left it strewn on his desk as he reached for his jacket. He noted Bel was doing the same, her hand going to flick off the yellow lamp he had bought her three years previously.

 

Just as he was about to walk out of the office, he felt a gentle hand on his arm. Eyes flicking towards the contact, he saw the woman he had been avoiding speaking to all day, a helpless smile spreading onto his features.

 

“The poetry was lovely,” Bel told him, a smile appearing to mirror his.

 

“Poetry? I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Freddie said in mock seriousness, beginning to turn to walk home before he was stopped again.

 

Before he could question what she was doing, she leant upwards slightly, pressing her lips gently to his.

 

The sensation went as quickly as it had come, he only left with the draft from where she had left hurriedly. Bringing his fingers to his mouth, he chuckled to himself.

 

Valentine’s Day had never been that appealing to Freddie, not until he had experienced the possibilities the day held.


	6. Wearing Each Other's Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during 3x01. Bel borrows something of Freddie's after the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been quite a while. I've been binge watching The Hour again lately, and I couldn't help but start writing these again. I've re-written this one because the original was terrible, and I plan to continue from here. My writing is probably different to how it used to be, so I hope it doesn't offend. Enjoy!

**_ Wearing each other's clothes _ **

The lights in Marnie's parents house had started to go out, but Freddie's remained on as he scrawled notes on a scrap of paper. His undershirt did little to protect against the chill of the room, but this was the least of his worries. _What is Brightstone?_ he thought to himself, brow creased as a knock sounded at his door. He looked up, calling a quiet 'come in' before returning to the paper in front of him.

The door opened, Bel silhouetted against the light outside, "it's only me," she replied, "I forgot a nightgown and I don't want to crush my dress."

"Is that marvellous new cheap synthetics or silk, _darling?_ " he mimicked Marnie, having overheard the conversation earlier on in the evening.

"You are nosy, aren't you?" Bel muttered, walking towards his cupboard with a quiet swish from her dress occasionally.

"How can I not be nosy? For one I'm a journalist, and two, it's not hard to hear two people talking when you're outside _my_ bathroom."

" _Your_ bathroom indeed," Bel smiled, rooting through the cupboard to find a shirt, "is this one alright?"

"Oh no, I couldn't _possibly_ let you have that one. It's made from the finest Egyptian cotton!" Freddie cried.

"Oh stop," Bel chuckled, "avert your eyes, James."

Freddie rolled his eyes, "must you do it here? You'll be taking it back to your room anyway, and I doubt I'll see it for a while."

Bel raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth turning up in a small smile as she reached for the zip at the top of her dress. Freddie sighed, holding a hand up beside his eyes to block his line of sight as he continued to look at his notes.

"Are you still looking at that crossword? It's one in the morning for goodness sake," Bel asked, "it's like you never stop thinking."

"One can't stop thinking just because it's the weekend. You should know that, intelligent girl like you," Freddie replied, turning to look at her before quickly turning his head, closing his eyes just in case.

"It's alright, I'm decent," she assured him, "anyway, I need to sleep, and you most certainly need to sleep if you're going to use your brain to its full capacity."

"I did tell you I'm not sleeping well, might as well use the time for something," he muttered, looking up at her. Her dress was draped over her arm, the tops of her stockings peeking out from underneath his shirt. Her hair seemed to glow in the low light as she walked towards the door. "And I could say the same to you, Moneypenny, we all need our beauty sleep."

Bel smiled, stopping beside his bed to touch his cheek gently, "goodnight, Freddie," she murmured, pushing a stray curl out of his eyes before returning to her room. Freddie sighed, placing the notebook on the bedside table before settling under the covers, finally clicking the lamp off. The room was sent into darkness, and his mind quickly followed.

In the opposing room, Bel lay in a similar pitch black, toying with the collar of the shirt she had borrowed with her fingers. She brought it to her nose, inhaling the unmistakable smell of Freddie. It was comforting, and drew her thoughts away from the events of that evening to memories of being in his flat, wrapped in blankets in front of the television until they both fell asleep in the lamplight.


	7. Cosplaying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's been a long time, school is a killer.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“ _No_.”

“ _Freddie_.”

“Don’t _Freddie_ me, it’s not going to happen, however much you ask.”

Bel sighed at the young man’s stubborn ways, sitting down on her small single bed, “why are you so stubborn?” she asked with a huff, slumping backwards to lean on the wall the bed was next to, closing her eyes in frustration.

The bed bounced as Freddie threw himself down next to her, a grin on his face as she jumped, “because I don’t want to do it and you won’t make me,” he explained, “try as hard as you like, I am not doing it.”

“It’s for Lix, Freddie,” Bel said, knowing that mentioning the woman would sway him towards agreeing with the idea. Just as she thought, he sat in stony silence, his face softening slightly as he sighed, “it’s one night, and you know how much it means to her. You’re walking her down the aisle for goodness sakes!”

“You always guilt trip me,” he replied with a sigh. Everyone in the office knew about Lix and Freddie’s mother-son-like relationship, and how equally fond of each other they were, “it’s just your tactic to worm your way in.”

Bel looked at him with a raised eyebrow, already knowing she’d won as a smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth despite her efforts to quell the urge.

“And I’m pained to say that this is one of the occasions where it has worked,” Freddie continued, crossing his arms in defeat, “but don’t think that you can get away with that trick all the time, Moneypenny.”

“So you’ll do it then?” she asked, her voice coloured by her pride and newly inflated ego as she nudged him in the side.

“Only if I don’t have to wear the hat,” he replied, his expression and stance shockingly similar to that of a petulant child who has been denied that which they want.

~~

“Why did I agree to this?”

“Hush now, this is Lix and Randall’s night. Don’t spoil it by being a child.”

“Moneypenny, I’m dressed like a-”

“I don’t want to hear any more! You look dashing, so just settle down and enjoy the evening.”

“I somehow doubt that anyone can look dashing in bellbottoms,” Freddie muttered as they entered the room, the sight of the other guests outfits making him struggle to hold back laughter, a snort coming in its place, “you know, I’m suddenly thinking that Lix’s idea wasn’t such a bad one.”

“See? I told you it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be,” she chuckled, “at least you don’t look like poor Isaac.”

The aforementioned journalist was stood talking to Sissy, now six months pregnant with hers and Sey’s first child. The poor man looked positively ridiculous, dressed as what appeared to be one of the seven dwarves from Snow White.

Sissy on the other hand looked perfectly normal, wearing an orange jumper, (‘I’m a pumpkin, couldn’t find anything that would fit,’ she would later explain). She was glowing as her pregnancy went on, Sey smiling at her side as she placed Isaac’s hand on the bump, his eyes wide with surprise as the baby kicked from within.

Freddie chuckled as he watched the scene unfold, not noticing the Madden’s two year old daughter bounding towards him, “uncle Freddie!” she cried, startling the thin man to attention as a grin immediately appeared on his face.

“Good evening, Miss. Madden!” Freddie laughed, swinging the child up into his arms before balancing her on his hip, “and what are we dressed as?” he asked, raising an eyebrow comically.

The child giggled, “Dorothy,” she replied, “and Daddy’s the scarecrow and Mummy’s Glinda the witch,” the child paused, “but not a nasty witch. What are you?”

Freddie chuckled at her question, “well, your Auntie Bel has made me be a sailor,” he explained, looking over to where the woman in question was talking to the rest of the Madden family, turning back to the child as she started to giggle, “what? Do you think I look funny?” he asked, tickling her gently.

The girl laughed, pushing her face into his neck, “Uncle Freddie looks silly,” she mumbled, followed by more giggling. Freddie sighed, walking towards her parents.

“Your daughter thinks I look silly,” he told them, trying not to laugh out loud at Hector’s appearance. With a floppy hat and painted nose, he looked nearly as ridiculous as poor Isaac.

“Well then, she would be completely correct,” Lix said from beside him, smiling fondly at Freddie with the child still balanced on his hip. Unlike the others, she had no state of fancy dress, wearing her usual pair of trousers and a button down shirt.

“And who have you come as, Miss. Storm?” Freddie asked, unable to hide the hint of venom in his voice. Randall however looked very uncomfortable dressed as what appeared to be James Dean, his hair combed into a haphazard quiff.

“Katherine Hepburn,” the ‘glorious’ woman replied, as if it should be obvious to those around her, “Bake and Sherry, I presume?” she asked, motioning towards Freddie and Bel.

“Yes, although Freddie was adamant that he wouldn’t do it,” Bel chuckled, received a glare from the man.

“It would seem you won him over,” Randall said with a sigh, he and Freddie sharing a sympathetic look. The things one does for the girl they love.

~~

As the evening wore on, the music played and the room was filled with chatter and laughter. Before too long, it was evident that the youngest Madden was getting tired. She sat on Bel’s lap, her head resting on the older woman’s shoulder as sleep took over.

Marnie had obviously noticed the change in the child’s behaviour, coming towards them as Bel stood, cradling the child to her chest, “it’s alright,” Bel assured her, “we’ll take care of it. You go and enjoy yourself.”

Marnie nodded, a smile on her lips as she returned to the party. Bel turned to Freddie, who willingly followed her into the corridor and down to the child’s bedroom. The pair had done this several times before, allowing Marnie a break from the near constant care of the small girl.

As they reached the bedroom Freddie opened the door carefully, wincing at the loud creak. He looked up to check if the girl was still sleeping, smiling as she didn’t even make a movement. The pair crept in quietly, Bel setting the child down on the small bed.

They worked quickly, changing her into her nightclothes before tucking her into bed. Freddie moved to stand next to Bel, his arm wrapping around her waist gently as he leaned his head on her shoulder, both watching the child with a sense of fondness.

“We’ll have a child one day, won’t we?” Freddie asked quietly, his voice gentle and soft.

Bel was surprised, but leaned her head against his none the less as a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, “two. Gilbert and Maud, remember?”

“How could I forget?” he chuckled, kissing her cheek as he moved towards the child. He leaned down, placing a kiss gently on her forehead before turning towards the door, “come along Moneypenny, it’s about time we were getting home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope it was alright, it hasn't been beta'd yet, but it will be soon! Freddie and Bel are meant to be Bake and Sherry from 'Follow the Fleet', a Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers film.


End file.
